


Newbuilds

by eerian_sadow



Series: PJ Anniversary 2017 [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bullying, Canon-Typical Violence, Community: prowlxjazz, Gen, Platonic Relationships, ProwlxJazz10thAnniversary, Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-25 09:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12033561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: On Cybertron before the war, a batch of newly constructed mechs comes online. It's a big, confusing world out there.





	1. First Light

**Author's Note:**

> So, in the grand tradition of PJ challenge responses, apparently it was time for another Prowl and Jazz are brothers AU! :D 
> 
> Things that are not explicitly mentioned in-fic:  
> Prowl and Jazz's batch is a group designed for strategy and espionage  
> Flak is the muscle  
> There aren't any factions. Yet.

The newbuild sat on his slab, swinging his feet in the air and humming with anticipation. The older mechs hurried around him, pointing things at him and trying to ask him questions, but he only had optics for the newbuild laying on the other construction slab next to him.

The other newbuild was the same colors he was, glossy black and shining white, but with red accents instead of his blue. He had long legs and a long torso and would probably be taller when they were standing next to each other. Sensory wings were nestled into the soft padding on his slab--padding the newbuild didn’t have on his, but he hadn’t needed the extra support--and he wondered if they would be able to move once the other newbuild was finally online.

But what really caught his attention were the optics on the other mech’s face. The newbuild didn’t have optics to see from, just a specialized band across his face that sent back visual data and a lot of things he didn’t understand yet.

One of the old mechs said something and forced the newbuild to look away from other other construction slab. He frowned and tried to turn away, but the older mech was insistent as he shined a light into the newbuild’s optical band.

Pain stabbed into his head and the newbuild cried out. The old mech said something meant to be soothing and turned off the light. The newbuild turned away as quickly as he could, covering his face for a few moments before looking back at his batch brother.

The other newbuild opened his optic shutters a klik later and turned his head to look at the newbuild. “Greetings.”

His pain was forgotten at the sight of his batch brother, online and looking at him with bright blue optics. “Hi, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you!”

“That is not logical.”

“Sure it is! You’re my brother and we’re gonna be together forever!”

“That is also not logical.” The other newbuild blinked at him. “But if that is the case, we should exchange designations. I am … Prowl.”

The newbuild accessed his own storage banks for a moment. “I’m Jazz. Happy to meet you, Prowl!”


	2. Champion

The other batch of newbuilds from their production facility didn't like him, and he didn't know why. Jazz hadn't done anything to hurt any of them--he didn’t even know their names--or been mean at all, but they had treated him like slag after the day he told them he liked the color of their optics.

All five of them had the prettiest amethyst purple optics, and he had wanted them to know that not get punched in the face. And he hadn't wanted to be punched again when he went to apologize for making them mad, but he had ended up in the training center’s medical room after that.

Jazz tried to leave them alone after that, no looking and no talking, but sometimes (like today) they hunted him down.

“Stop it!” The visored mech curled into a ball as the largest of the other group of newbuilds kicked him in the back. “I didn’t do anything to you!”

“You’re a freak!” The big mech kicked him again, and one of his teammates joined him. “This is what freaks like you deserve!”

“If anyone here is a freak,” Prowl’s steady voice felt like a miracle when Jazz heard it, “Then it is all of you. What kind of mechanisms harass and assault a lone mech for giving them a compliment?”

“You’re just a freak like him!” Jazz whined softly as the big mech turned his attention to his brother. He didn’t want Prowl to get hurt saving him. “Let’s put him in his place.”

There were heavy footsteps a moment later and Jazz uncurled just enough to see Trailbreaker and Flak step up to either side of the other group of newbuilds. He couldn’t see Highbrow anywhere, but he was probably somewhere out of his line of sight.

“You may try to put me in my place, as you say.” Prowl’s voice stayed cool and calm, though Jazz could see the tremble in his wings. “But our brothers are here now to even the odds.”

“Scrap this.” The big mech turned away. “Let’s get out of here before they infect us with their freakiness.”

One of the others stomped his foot irritably. “But Motormaster, I thought you said--!”

“Shut up!” The big mech--Motormaster, apparently--roared loud enough to vibrate the glass in Jazz’s visor. “I said we’re going! Roll!”

The other newbuilds muttered, but followed as Motormaster stomped away. Prowl watched them until they stepped through the training room door, then crouched down beside Jazz. Their other brothers joined them a moment later.

“How badly damaged are you?” Prowl asked, turning him gently so that he could see Jazz’s back.

“It’s not as bad as last time,” the smaller mech replied. “You got here before they did too much.”

“Good.” Still using gentle touches, the winged mech coaxed his injured brother into a sitting position. Then he wrapped him in a careful hug. “Please, Jazz. I know that you have combat programming. I want you to use it the next time they try anything.”

“I-I don’t want to deactivate them. My combat programming isn’t nice like yours.”

“It’s not like Prowl’s no.” Highbrow creeped close enough to take his hand, though it was obvious to Jazz that he was still paying attention to the doors. “It’s probably like mine, and I’ve been working with Sergeant Kup to learn other ways to fight that doesn't mean I have to deactivate them. You can come too.”

“Highbrow is right.” Prowl tightened his hug slightly. “You should have been training with him all along, I think.”

“But no one asked us.” Jazz sighed softly. “Can I go with you tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Highbrow replied with a smile. 

“Now, I believe we are all done with training for the day. Trailbreaker, help us up so that we can take Jazz to see the medics?”

“Sure.” They were wrapped in a solid field a moment later and the black mech carefully picked them up from the ground.

“Prowl,” Jazz let his brother drape an arm around his uninjured shoulders and lead him toward the door. “We don’t have to go to the medics, you know. We can just go get some fuel and watch a vid or something.”

“Jazz, you are going.”

“You’re no fun, Prowl!”


	3. Pets and Companion Animals

“Prowl, what is that?!” Jazz rushed over excitedly, peering over his brother’s shoulder to see what he had carried into the warehouse.

Bright yellow optics and a startled yelp answered him, and Prowl immediately began trying to soothe the whatever-it-was in his arms.

“Easy, little one. That's just Jazz. You'll like him.” The winged mech stroked the creature gently before looking at his brother. “This is a cyberhound. I think. It was alone and frightened, and came to me for help while I was watching the stars.”

“Oh!” Jazz grinned. “Are you gonna keep it?”

“I would like to. But I don't think it's allowed.”

“It is certainly _not_ allowed!” The medic, Pharma--the one who had the angry optics, not the tired but kind optics--snapped from behind them. The cyberhound yelped again and scrabbled loudly against Prowl’s plating. “Take that beast back outside at once! You don’t know what kind of parasites it’s carrying!”

“He is frightened and hungry,” Prowl replied, frowning at the medic. Jazz turned to frown at him, too. “I promised I would care for him.”

“You cannot make promises to a beast who doesn’t understand them.” The medic waved his hands at Prowl and the cyberhound, vaguely indicating that he should move away. “Remove it from the premises, or I will.”

“Is there a problem, Pharma?” Jazz and Prowl both flinched away as the biggest mech they had ever seen in their short lives stepped through the door behind them.

“No real problem, Lord Prime,” the medic replied. “The trainee simply refuses to turn that stray back outside where it belongs.”

“I promised I would take care of him.” Jazz could tell that his brother was nervous now, but he stood up strongly anyway--even though the Prime could throw them all out if he wanted. 

“I see.” The large mech crouched down, peering at the mechanimal in Prowl’s arms. “May I see your friend?”

Pharma sputtered.

“He is frightened,” Prowl said. “I do not want him to run away and become lost in the base.”

“Certainly not.” The Prime smiled gently. “A look at his face will do. I am simply curious.”

Jazz stepped close so that he could try to catch the cyberhound if he tried to get away as Prowl nodded and moved his arm so that the Prime could see. The cyberhound whined and flailed at the winged mech’s arms, trying to get away.

“A Tarnish variant,” the Prime said after several kliks of studying the mechanimal. “As loyal and true a companion as you could ever hope to find. Treat him well and he will stay by your side his whole life.”

“I will, sir.” Prowl hugged the cyberhound close again. “Thank you, sir.”

Jazz relaxed a little, knowing that the Prime had just given his brother permission to keep the mechanimal, despite the medic’s protests. “Do you know how to take care of them, sir?”

The Prime smiled as he stood up. “Indeed I do, young one. My own mentor raised several Tarnish and Iaconian cyberhounds in my youth. Come to my chambers after your friend is settled and I will give you some of the literature he left me.”

“But, Lord Prime!” Pharma found his voice again, and he protested loudly. “What if that stray is carrying some kind of parasite or disease?”

“Take your friend to see Medic Ratchet before you come to see me,” the large mech said, still smiling. “So that Medic Pharma’s fears can be alleviated.”

“Yes, sir!” Prowl’s wings fluttered with happiness.


	4. Fight

“Jazz, I don’t think I can do this.” Prowl ducked down as laserfire sailed over the wall they were sheltered behind. “I can’t direct the whole army!”

“Yes, you can.” Jazz ducked down next to his winged brother, trusting Flak to cover them while he took Prowl’s hands and squeezed comfortingly. “You’re good at this! No one else scores like you in the simulations!”

“Those are _just_ simulations! If I do something wrong here, real mechanisms will die!”

“And I know that.” Jazz squeezed Prowl’s hands more tightly. “But if you don’t take over, we’re all going to die. Me, Flak, Sentinel Prime, everybot.”

“That’s not fair!” Prowl looked away, glaring angrily down at the ground.

“I know it ain’t fair. Ain’t fair how fast Highbrow and I had to start work, either. But we need you now.”

“Prowl, they’re advancing on our position!” Flak fired at their assailants several times in rapid succession. “And I think I just saw Prime go down!”

“What? No!” Prowl caught Jazz by surprise when he surged to his feet and pulled him up with him. “We need to break through their lines and support Sentinel until we can get him to a medic. Trailbreaker!”

 _”Here, Prowl.”_ Their brother’s voice was only slightly nervous over the comm.

“Use your force fields to help to provide cover for the heavy weapons and escort them into a higher position, so they can fire into the main attacking force.”

 _”You got it, Prowl.”_ Prowl’s orders didn’t make Trailbreaker sound any less nervous, but they could hear him issuing his own orders despite it.

“Jazz, Flak, let’s go.” Prowl drew his pistol and leaned around the wall just enough to see their opponents. “We’re going to make them sorry they ever attacked Iacon.”

Jazz glanced up at Flak, who gave him a thumbs up. Neither of them hesitated to follow Prowl when their brother charged into the battle.


	5. Silence

Jazz watched his brother quietly as Prowl started through the observation window into the repair bay where the medics were working on Sentinel Prime. The winged mech hadn’t said a word after the battle had ended, he had just held the older mech's hand until the medics arrived. Then he had boarded the medical transport with them and left Jazz and Trailbreaker to organize the cleanup.

No one said anything to their faces, but he had heard the unflattering whispers about a group of _newbuilds_ being in charge of things, like they hadn’t been built for this exact purpose.

Now, his brother was watching silently as the medics put his mentor back together and Jazz wasn’t sure what to do to help him.

“Did you fuel yet?” The visored mech asked.

Prowl nodded.

“Did one of the medics check you out? I know you said you weren’t hurt, but…”

The winged mech nodded again.

“Just checking.” Jazz sighed. “I talked to Fixit before I came in here. He said that Sentinel’s gonna be okay, just that the surgery is tedious.”

Prowl nodded a third time. Then he held out one arm to Jazz, optics still locked on the medics and their patients beyond the window. Jazz came close enough to duck under his brother’s arm and wrap the other mech in a tight hug. Prowls wings drooped low and trembled where they touched his arm.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Jazz repeated. “We’re all gonna be okay.”

Finally, Prowl turned away from the window. He wrapped his other arm around the visored mech and clung to his brother, vents hitching with distress. Jazz squeezed him more tightly, hoping he could soothe the other mech with just his presence.

After several long moments, Prowl finally whispered. “I will do better. Next time no one will get hurt.”

Jazz didn’t think it would work that way, but he just nodded in reply.


	6. Duet

“Prowl, you gotta hear this!” Jazz ran into the small office they had been assigned after the Kaonite attack. “This is the best song I’ve ever heard!”

Prowl and Haze looked up in unison, the mech frowning while the cyberhound yipped once in greeting.

“Jazz, please. I’m busy. Onslaught is still missing in action.”

“You need a break,” the visored mech replied, unperturbed. “You and Haze have been in here half the solar cycle already. I bet neither one of you have had any fuel. And you need to hear this.”

The winged mech sighed loudly. “If I listen, will you let me get back to work?”

“Yeah, long as you have some energon, too.” Jazz grinned and pulled an energon cube and a media drive from his subspace.

His brother sighed again. “Fine. Give me the cube and I’ll listen to whatever it is that you've found this time.”

“Great!” The shorter mech beamed. “You’ll like this one!”

“If it is anything like that recording of the Crystal Towers symphonies, I have my doubts.” Prowl took the energon and peeled the seal off the top of the cube. “I don’t know how you can stand listening to those.”

Jazz shrugged and flipped the power switch for the drive. “I just like them. But this is way better.”

“That remains to be seen.” 

“Right!” Jazz’s smile widened and he pressed the play button on the media drive. A moment later, the office was filled with rapid percussive beats. The visored mech began bobbing his head as Prowl gave him a flat stare.

Haze jumped to his feet and left his bed in the corner to stare up at the desk curiously. When a soft stringed instrument--Prowl didn’t know enough about music to be certain what kind it was--joined the percussion, the cyberhound barked and began wagging his tail.

“Jazz, turn it off,” Prowl requested softly.

“Aw, but Haze likes it!” 

“Jazz, I cannot--” The winged mech was interrupted as Haze started howling in key with the vocals that had begun playing. He glared down at the mechanimal, who stared back at him unrepentantly and kept howling. “You traitor.”

Jazz laughed and began singing along, too. Prowl picked up his energon cube and walked out of the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Prowl doesn't know if Haze is his dog or Jazz's.


End file.
